Page 27 of The Half King
She laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever given it a thought.”
“Well, now you know,” he said. “And the only thing worse than a mare’s bite is having to face your father’s physician while drunk, bloodied, and naked.”
Still smiling, the king stared off into the hedges as if replaying the memory. Cerise enjoyed this version of him, of Kian the mischievous young man with an easy grin and a story to tell.
But as the wind shifted, the king turned his gaze skyward, where streaks of orange and purple tinted the last rays of sunlight. The corners of his lips turned down. All of the cheer left his face, peeling away until only dread remained.
“Your Majesty, please listen to me.” Cerise moved closer to him and reached for his hand. At first, he hesitated, but he allowed her to hold one of his hands in between both of hers. She took a moment to savor the pleasant heat of it, the feel of it, rough and callused and large. “I don’t have the Sight, and I don’t know if I ever will. But today Daerick and I learned something about the noble curses, and he came back from the city so full of hope that he was practically glowing. You know Daerick, his standards and his brilliance. He wouldn’t be excited about an idea unless it had merit.”
“What did you learn?” Kian asked.
“That the curse can be broken through atonement.”
“And how would we do that?” He looked into her face, hope and despair warring in those smoky gray eyes.
Cerise bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know yet.”
The king dropped his gaze, though not before a wall went up behind it. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect himself. She hadn’t earned his trust yet.
“I do know this,” she told him. “The goddess sent me here for a reason. I’m certain of it. She has a plan that’s bigger than all of us.”
Kian peeked up through a fringe of dark lashes, his gray eyes latching onto hers. Again she noticed a subtle hint of emotion, a need for hope and an even greater fear of it.
She squeezed his hand. “Shiera doesn’t make mistakes.”
“No,” he agreed. “The suffering she inflicts on me is deliberate.”
“The goddess can be vengeful; that’s true. But I’ve seen her merciful side.”
Kian scoffed.
“I have,” she promised. “There was a girl who came to the temple with hells bane—horrible red scales all over her face and a fever out of control. None of the healers could help her. But then the girl put her favorite doll on the burning altar, and just like that”—she snapped her fingers—“she was cured.”
“A miracle,” Kian droned with an eye roll.
“Itwasa miracle,” Cerise insisted. “They don’t happen often, but by definition, miracles are supposed to be rare. Shiera answers prayers. Even when the answer is no, I’ve felt her presence inside me like a second heart.”
“When has she ever answeredmyprayers?” An undercurrent of bitterness flowed heavily in those words.
“Maybe when she sent me here to serve you. Or again today, when she guided my path into the city so Daerick and I could learn how to break her curse. I think she’s decided that the noble houses have suffered long enough.”
“Or maybe she’s twisting the knife.”
Cerise huffed a dry laugh. “Do you think she sent me here to give you hope and then take it away? That’s arrogant, even for a king. Of all the men who ever lived, what makesyouso special that our creator would go through the trouble of toying with you?”
He didn’t have an answer for that.
“This is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It has to be. But I need you to have a little faith, or at least pretend to. Breaking the curse will be hard enough without you fighting me and making me feel small.”
The king opened his mouth to speak but faltered.
“Promise you won’t quit,” she added. “Promise that when you wake up at dawn, you’ll rule like you mean it, like a king with a hundred years to live. Your people need you more than you know. Think of how your subjects will suffer if you continue to neglect them.”
His throat shifted as he swallowed.
“I need to hear you say it.”
With a slow nod, Kian murmured, “I’ll try.”
